


The Boy Who Lived

by taztaas (manala)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Found Family, Gen, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-02 15:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14547612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manala/pseuds/taztaas
Summary: Angus is seventeen and he doesn’t have a family. He walks the streets with a baseball bat in hand.





	1. The Adventures of Angus McDonald

Angus is seventeen and he doesn’t have a family. He walks the streets with a baseball bat in hand.

*

“Last name?”  
“McDonald,” he says if asked because he doesn’t remember his parents but he remembers dumpster diving behind a fast food restaurant.

*

His jeans are old, and short in the legs, and his sneakers have holes in them. His t-shirt is dirty and his coat was stolen but he still has his watch on his wrist. The batteries are dead but he wears it. _To Angus from Grampa_ is engraved on the back of it in looping cursive.

*

He wakes up shivering on a park bench, and there’s this huge guy with _huge_ sideburns looming over him so he sits up quick. The guy has a dog, almost Angus’ size but less skinny. He asks if Angus is okay, if he needs help. “I’m fine,” Angus says, and runs.

*

Angus likes the library. It’s warm, the toilets are free and he can stay as long as he wants because no one is going to throw a well-mannered teen out of a library.

The librarian is a nice, quiet man. His hair is on neat dreads unlike the mess of dark curls on Angus’ head. He doesn’t bother Angus when he’s reading. He doesn’t ask why he never checks anything out.

_(Because he has no place to take the books to.)_

Angus figured out rather quick that the loud, outlandishly dressed person with blond hair is the librarian’s husband and he can’t believe such a couple exists but they seem happy.

“Whatcha reading this time, pumpkin?” He asks because he seems unable to leave Angus well enough alone.

“None of your business, _sir,_ ” Angus says, just to be rude, but the man only laughs, like he’s pleased by the answer or something and Angus hides his grin behind the book he’s reading.

*

When Angus was younger, he liked Sherlock Holmes. He liked mystery novels. He wanted to be a detective, the world’s greatest. But he was a kid back then.

A stupid dream.

*

His glasses are cracked but that’s fine, he can still see through them. His nose is bleeding but it’s not broken, so that’s fine too.

He stumbles into a random café to wash his face. The girl at the register screams when she sees him. The tag on her shirt says _Ren_ and before Angus has time to disappear into the restroom, the door behind the counter slams open. It’s the flamboyant husband from the library because of course it is. He glares at Angus and crosses his arms over his apron-covered chest. Angus glares right back before slamming the door and locking it behind him.

He’s gone before they start knocking on the door. The window was small but he hasn’t had a proper meal in a long while so he fit through alright.

*

He avoids the library for a few weeks because he’s sure there will be questions and he doesn’t want to answer any.

*

Angus is huddled in a corner of a building, not quite covered by the edge of the roof above and it’s raining. A woman stops before him and drops a hoodie onto his shoulders. It’s too big for him, so big that it can’t be hers either. She doesn’t say anything.

She’s short with a friendly face, but she looks strong enough to knock a guy out. She’s already walking away when Angus recognizes the dog.

*

Angus realizes he must skip town soon. It’s when people start to take notice of him, when they start remembering his face that the trouble starts. This town isn’t too small but he's already running into the same people too many times.

*

He is walking, minding his own business when he’s manhandled inside a building by the dog couple. With horror, he realizes it’s the café from before. He thinks about yelling but attention is the last thing he wants.

Angus glares at the light-haired person at the counter before realizing it’s someone else. A twin, he thinks, because they look very similar. She’s talking to a man wearing blue jeans.

Angus is herded into a booth so he takes a seat. The couple sits a table away but their dog settles on Angus’ feet. The animal is heavy but warm, and his toes are freezing so he lets it.

Just like last time, the blond man appears from the kitchen and sets a hand on the table before Angus, leaning on it. His nametag says Taako.

“Tea or coffee, kid?” he asks, and Angus glares at him because he’s not a kid.

“Well?” Taako prods, not giving in.

“Tea. _Please._ ” Angus spits out, mocking once again but gets a grin in response.

“That’s more like it,” says Taako, and saunters away.

Angus stares determinedly out of the window because he can tell what this is. This is an intervention, and he wants no part of it. He’s almost eighteen, and when he’s eighteen, he can be on his own legally and he's been just fine thus far anyhow.

Angus’ tea arrives, and with it, plates and plates full of food that he did not ask for.

“What’s this?” He asks, suspicious, because it is. Taako frowns at him.

“It’s food, dude. Though you do look like you haven’t seen much of it.”

“I can’t pay for this.”

“Don’t need to.”

“I don’t want your charity.”

Taako takes a deep breath through his nose like he’s preparing to yell. Angus stares hard into his eyes, daring him to.

“Taako!” admonishes the woman at the counter and he deflates. Taako glares at Angus, points at him, then at the food, then at him again. He walks away with a flip of his braid. Angus gets a sheepish grin from the sister after Taako disappears back into the kitchen.

Angus’ stomach growls so he sighs and starts eating.

He’s never tasted anything so good.

*

Magnus and Julia are good people. They have warm smiles and clothes covered in dog hair.

Magnus asks what the baseball bat was for.

Angus stares at him, brow raised, until he gets it. Magnus looks away, an embarrassed flush to his cheeks and Julia laughs gently at him and pats his chest comfortingly to soften the blow.

*

“So. Jeans, huh?” Barry says.  
  
Angus looks down. “They’re sturdy,” he says and shrugs.

Lup grins.

*

Taako and Kravitz’s house has a lot of books. Angus smoothes his fingers over the spines.

“Do you have anything by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?”

“No,” says Taako, though it’s not like he would know.

“Not yet,” says Kravitz with a smile.

*

Angus comes home to a cake with his name and eighteen candles on it.


	2. A Study in Scarlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angus settles in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me when I said I wouldn’t write anything for my street kid Angus AU for a long while: I am a lying liar who lies.

It’s past midnight and Angus can’t sleep. He sets down his copy of  _A Study in Scarlet_  - he’s rereading all of Doyle’s Holmes-works, now that he has the chance.

The novels had just appeared in Kravitz’s study the other day. Taako had denied any involvement when confronted, so Angus had gone to thank Kravitz for the books, only to receive a puzzled look in response.

“But, Taako said-”

“Ah,” a soft smile. “Then it’s best not to push, Angus,” Kravitz had said, with a gentle pat to Angus’ shoulder. “My husband is a strange creature, but his heart is in the right place.”

Angus picks up his glasses (a new pair, without the crack on the lens and a fresh prescription) from his nightstand (where they lay next to his Grampa’s watch, now fixed up) and sets them on his nose. A glass of water might help him sleep, maybe.

(What a luxury, to get up from bed at one’s own leisure.)

He’s wearing one of Taako’s old t-shirts to bed. Kravitz had offered his own but they were all too big on him. “You’re too skinny, kid,” Taako had said with a frown as he dug through his dresser for something Angus could wear.

He grabs a pair of (Taako’s) sweatpants off the floor to pull them on, not yet (if ever) comfortable enough to walk around the house (his home?) in his underwear.

He descends the stairs, his bare feet quiet on polished wood.

The kitchen is flooded with warm, inviting light. Taako stands at the stove, stirring. He’s wearing Kravitz’s robe; judging by the color (dark grey) and size (too large for his frame). The slippers are his own though. Pink, fuzzy and vaguely unicorn-shaped.

“Couldn’t sleep either, huh,” Taako says without raising his eyes from the pot in front of him, not really expecting an answer. Angus hums noncommittally, not really giving one either and takes a seat at the kitchen table. He’s already here so he might as well sit down.

“I’m making cocoa. My aunt’s recipe. You want some?” Taako asks, as he grabs something from the shelf above and sprinkles it in, stirring all the while.

Angus thinks about saying no. Then he thinks that maybe it’s more childish of him to deny himself fun things just because they are supposedly childish. He sets his elbows on the table, rests his chin on his hands and says:

“Sure.”

Taako’s attention never wavers from the concoction in front of him. He goes to add more milk to the pot. Angus can easily tell that the over the top concentration is fake and manufactured, even though he doesn’t know Taako that well yet. Silence falls upon the room like a heavy blanket. Warm and comforting at first, but increasingly suffocating until Taako speaks again and breaks the spell.

“You can ask, bubbeleh,” Taako says, still avoiding eye-contact. “You’re a smart kid. I know you’ve seen the shit.”

Angus startles, just a bit, not expecting the permission. He doesn’t want to be nosy, it’s not like whatever is going on in Taako and Kravitz’s life is any of his business.

But Angus has been wondering. He figured out early on that the room he’s staying in (guest room, he was told) was originally meant for a young child. He has wondered about the small assortment of toys, clothing and Caleb Cleveland  -novels hidden deep behind cardboard boxes in the cupboard of his room.

He has wondered about the books on childcare, hidden behind the heftiest novels, on the top shelf of the bookcase in the study. He has taken note of the fact that nothing in the house points towards the actual existence of a child. No photos, no drawings, no nothing.

Angus opens his mouth but shuts it again when Taako glances sharply at him.

“Don’t talk too loud. Krav has a big day tomorrow, ” he says. Angus notes that he looks tired. And worn, somehow, the look in his eyes fit for someone much farther along in years.

Angus nods and doesn’t reveal his suspicion of the real reason why Taako wishes to keep quiet. Kravitz had gotten a promotion and he’s to start in his new position tomorrow (well, today, at this point of the night) but Angus has already learned that the man sleeps like the dead.

It’s more likely that Taako doesn’t want Kravitz to hear what they are discussing, even accidentally.

The silence might be gone but the atmosphere weighs heavily upon their heads as Taako turns off the stove and pours the finished cocoa into two mugs. He dumps a generous amount of mini-marshmallows into his own drink and looks towards Angus with his brow raised in question.

“No, thank you,” Angus says because he doesn’t like it when things are too sweet. And despite his earlier train of thought, he decides that marshmallows are for kids. And quirky adults, apparently.

Taako sits down in the chair opposite of Angus and sets the mugs down on the table. He slides the marshmallow-free one towards Angus who manages to catch it without spilling any of the hot beverage.

Taako cups his hands around his mug and looks away with a sigh. Angus feels like sighing too; how to have a conversation with someone who won’t even look your way? But to his surprise, Taako takes the initiative.

“…Never really thought about having kids. But Kravitz… Kravitz wanted to have one, and I…” He pauses and takes a sip of his sugary drink, his eyes still somewhere further away than the kitchen wall. “I was ready to do that with him. Ready to- to raise a child.” His fingers curl tighter around the cup and he looks down at the liquid as if it could help provide the words he needs.

“But…” He trails off.

Taako blinks and swallows hard. Angus is suddenly hit with the realization that he shouldn’t be here. Who is he, to sit here and watch as the man who provides him with food and shelter and whatever else he could ever need, struggles through a retelling of something that is clearly still a painful memory. What right does he, a kid who grew up fighting in the streets, have to hear this tale of family?

Taako sighs again and he sounds so weary that Angus feels something get stuck in his own throat. He takes a drink to alleviate it but it does nothing to help.

“It’s funny really,” Taako says, starting again. “As long as you can- can make the kid yourself… No one is checking in to see if you’re fit for a parent. But when you want to adopt one…” A hollow laugh. “They pick you, your partner and your life apart and you need to- you need to be perfect.”

Angus wants to tell him to stop talking but he doesn’t.

“Kids need stability. And to become a parent you need to have stable income, provide a stable home and be stable…” Taako says, his voice getting steadily quieter until he closes his eyes briefly before whispering:

“Men- mentally.”

Angus looks away. He shouldn’t be seeing, shouldn’t be hearing this. He doesn’t look up at Taako before he hears him curse quietly.

“So, yeah… Cha’boy has some stuff he’s still working through. And I couldn’t- Kravitz…”

”I’m sure Kravitz doesn’t blame you,” Angus says quietly, slowly, because he needs to say  _something._  Needs to show his support somehow. Because he knows it’s true. Knows that Kravitz loves Taako despite and because of everything. He might be a street kid but he can tell.

But Taako just smiles, small and sad. “Yeah. I know, but…”

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence. Angus doesn’t need to hear it, he understands anyway. He can see that Taako blames himself, still. That he feels like he’s robbed Kravitz of something. Just like Angus himself has been robbed of-

Angus feels sad. In a small and tired way. In the way that you feel when something just can’t be helped. He doesn’t feel sorry for Taako and Kravitz, not exactly, though it is a part of it.

He can tell that they’re good people. They really would have deserved it. They would have been great parents, despite their shortcomings. They could have provided a great home to grow up in.

As Angus thinks that, to his shame, he feels jealous. And sorry for  _himself._  What did he do wrong to deserve the way he grew up?

Sleeping on park benches and with nothing else than a baseball bat to protect him from the horrors of the world. What he wouldn’t have given for the chance to-

“Pumpkin, listen,” Taako says, out of the blue and Angus looks up to meet his gaze. He’s blinking too fast (to keep the tears from spilling over) but he hopes Taako won’t notice. Or at least won’t draw attention to it.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think- to think that me and Krav are so desperate to have- to have a baby that we’ll pick up any kid off the fucking street.”

Taako chugs the rest of his cocoa with unnecessary vigor and half-slams his empty mug back on the table. “It’s not like that.”

Taako stands up and walks to the kitchen tap. He flushes out his mug and sets it down in the sink. He doesn’t return to the table, choosing to linger in place instead. He crosses his arms over his chest, looking down.

“We think- all of us, Lup and Barry, Magnus and Julia and everyone else…”

Angus hides behind his still half-full mug because he doesn’t know what else to do. He had just come down to get a glass of water and instead-

“We think that- you’re a great kid and you deserve better than sleep on the street and…” He trails off and Angus doesn’t dare to look up from his cup.

“Angus,” Taako says and Angus realizes with a start that he’s standing next to his chair. He didn’t notice Taako moving.

Taako’s hand hovers awkwardly over Angus’ shoulder for a second before dropping down and squeezing gently. Taako’s fingers are sharp and bony, but Angus can feel the warmth of his hand through his shirt.

“You don’t have to stay here. If- if you don’t want to. But you- you’ll always have a home here. With us.”

Angus finds himself unable to speak so he nods instead.

“Just remember that, yeah?” Taako says with a smile in his voice and ruffles Angus’ hair lightly. And it should be silly to Angus, seeing how he’s almost a head taller than Taako when they’re both standing, but it feels overwhelmingly good instead. It feels like-

“Turn the lights off when you’re done, okay kiddo?” Taako says as he leaves the room, the shuffling of his ridiculous slippers signaling his departure.

“Yeah, okay,” Angus manages to choke out, a moment too late but it’s not like it matters here.

It feels like home.


	3. The Valley of Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father's Day rolls around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter titles are from Sherlock Holmes canon, in case you haven't realized :D  
> Also you can thank tumblr user selkie-elf for this angst.

It’s Sunday, but not just any Sunday. It’s Father’s Day, and Taako is working until the afternoon.

He’s tired. He’s been up and baking at the café since the asscrack of dawn to get all the cakes and other confectioneries started and done. Ren joined him at some point, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes, asking when did he get here. He just shrugged, evasive, mostly because he wasn’t actually sure. He just had to get out of the house before Kravitz woke up.

Father’s Day is hard for them both, and Taako is grateful for the fact that he has a job like this, that gives him an excuse to not be home. The library is closed on Sundays, and Taako feels bad when he thinks about Kravitz skulking around the house without Taako there to keep his mind off things, but he can’t stand being there.

He can’t stand the feeling of walking around on eggshells. He doesn’t want to be reminded of the fact that he’s the reason why they only celebrated Father’s Day once and then never again. Kravitz doesn’t blame him, he knows. But that doesn’t stop him from blaming himself.

At least Kravitz isn’t alone this year, now that they have Angus living with them. Taako takes comfort in that.

Ren helps him in the kitchen at first, then moves out to the counter when it’s time to open shop and let all the customers in to make last-minute purchases. Taako does most of the work and it’s just about too much for just one person but he wants to do it, alone, and Ren doesn’t question him.

And Lup knows better than to offer her help today. They used to fight about it, about Taako’s unhealthy tendency to avoid the whole thing until the very last fight they had over it when they both ended up saying things that they would forever regret. Taako knows that Lup can relate to his situation. Hers is worse, in a way, because as a woman, she should be able to have children of her own. But it’s never going to happen because some asshole God or whatever higher power thought it would be funny to give her the wrong kind of junk.

The key difference between their situations is the fact that Lup and Barry weren’t stupid enough to even try for adoption.

Taako grits his teeth and buries his hands in the dough. He doesn’t want to think about what day it is, doesn’t want to think about much anything at all, so he kneads and whisks and glazes until the steady stream of customers trickles to a stop and Ren suggests that they close the shop for the day. Taako agrees, but he still tries to procrastinate by saying that he’ll stay behind to clean up. Ren’s taking none of it and practically throws him out of his own establishment. The nerve.

So Taako hangs up his apron, gathers his stuff and gets in his car to drive home. He catches his reflection in the rearview mirror and cringes. He looks disgusting; all sweaty and covered in flour and he can’t wait to get home and avoid his husband some more in favor of a long bath and several glasses of wine.

He gets home, drops his bag on the floor and makes a beeline for the bathroom, planning which one of his obnoxiously scented bath bombs he’s going to use when he stops in his tracks. Angus and Kravitz are standing in the kitchen, looking like they’ve been there for a while, just waiting for him to get home and Taako’s stomach drops.

“Wha- what’s going on?” he asks, his gaze flitting between Angus’ excited grin and Kravitz’s nervous smile before he notices what’s on the kitchen table.

Presents, two of them.

“What the fuck?”

Too late Taako realizes that Kravitz is reaching out to him and that he’s already walking towards him to grab the hand he’s being offered. Damn husband, conditioning him to unconsciously want to hold his hand whenever he feels insecure.

Taako follows Kravitz to the table and takes a seat because his legs suddenly feel like jelly for some bizarre reason. Kravitz stays standing next to him, silently supporting as Angus goes around the table to stand on the other side. Taako stares at the gifts like they’re some unknown species of animal.

The one on the left is rectangular, wrapped in forest green paper (with a slight sheen to it) and a silver ribbon. It’s a book, obviously, Taako can tell by the shape of it and he’s not surprised at all. It must be for Kravitz. Both his husband and s... Angus are nerds.

The other one is wrapped in bright metallic blue paper, covered in golden stars and a huge golden stick-on bow for embellishment. The shape of it is vague and Taako has no idea what it might be.

“What the hell is this?” Taako asks again because no one has bothered to answer him yet. Angus fidgets, visibly nervous, and he shoves his hands to the pockets of his jeans to still them.

“It’s uh, Father’s Day gifts,” Angus says, looking away and Taako swallows down the lump in his throat.

“Oh, yeah… people uh, people do that,” he says quietly and feels Kravitz’s hand land on his shoulder. “You uh, you go first, Krav.” Taako’s having a hard fucking time wrapping his head around the implications of all this so there’s no way in hell he’s going first.

Kravitz unwraps his gift carefully to avoid tearing the paper (the dork) and indeed, it turns out to be a book. By one of the authors he and Angus have been discussing (not that Taako has been listening to all that nerd talk) and Kravitz lets out a breath. Taako does the same as if they were both expecting a bomb to go off or something equally ridiculous.

Kravitz thanks Angus profusely for the gift and pulls him into an awkward one-armed hug over the table and Taako thinks that he might be able to do this, as he sees the proud, bright grin on Angus’ face.

Taako grabs his own gift, looks up at Kravitz, as if to confirm if he should and gets an encouraging smile in return.

“Oh-okay then,” he says, and starts to tear into the package. He rips off the wrapping, throws a wad of tissue paper over his shoulder and the gift is revealed. And he freezes.

It’s a mug. It’s just a mug, a stupid piece of ceramic with the text _WORLD’S OKAYEST DAD_ on it.

And Taako remembers.

He remembers the day he gave a similar, if not exactly the same mug to Kravitz, on Father’s Day, a little time after they came to the conclusion that they were going to adopt.

He remembers, how they both laughed at the thing, at the silly text, and how Kravitz lifted him up in his arms and spun him around before stopping to kiss him all over his face.

He remembers it as if he’s living through it all again.

* * *

 The mug was waiting in the kitchen cabinet, right up until the day everything went to shit. The day when they were (when _Taako_ was) declared unfit to be a parent. Then it had disappeared without a trace, and Taako forgot all about it in the following months-long shitshow.

Until the anger and disappointment were gone, and all that was left was sadness and guilt.

Until Taako stepped into Kravitz’s study, looking for something, and found the pieces of the shattered mug in the trash bin.

And Taako understood, with sudden clarity, that he wasn't meant to find it. That Kravitz had discarded the broken mug in his own room on purpose. The guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders as he reached in to pick up the pieces without thinking.

Maybe he should fix it, glue it together. Or throw it away immediately, without a word, get it out of the house so that Kravitz wouldn’t need to see it (a grim reminder of what would never be) ever again.

His hands were shaking but he was doing fine until he picked up a bigger piece with the word _DAD_ clearly on it and his fingers spasmed around it. The edges were sharp and blood welled up from the cuts on his palm and fingers but he didn’t feel it. He stared down at it, the word mocking him, reminding him of what a failure he was. How he let Kravitz down.

_How he had caught Kravitz red-handed, practicing lullabies, his original compositions on their piano. Taako had laughed, made fun of his husband who was a fucking sap but on the inside, he had been so goddamn happy._

_The day he had opened the letter; stark white and impersonal. Kravitz’s hands on his shoulders, the grip turning bruising as Kravitz too read the words on the paper, gripped in Taako’s shaking hands._

_How he had called his therapist only to receive her condolences in return. How he hung up on her mid-sentence and then dropped his phone as he realized that he was going to have to call his sister and tell her that she would never become an aunt._

_The way Kravitz had given up his musical career, his childhood dream of becoming a conductor for the sake of a more stable job at the library._

Taako’s breath hitched. He was shaking. He felt like he was made of porcelain, like he was shattering into a million pieces, just like the damn mug, on the floor.

He was frozen. He didn’t hear Kravitz enter the room, didn’t notice him until he was kneeling next to him on the floor. Taako felt like he was having an out of body experience. When had he sat down? Something inside him was reaching critical mass and he was afraid to find out what it would be.

“Darling,” Kravitz said, sounding so shaky that Taako sobbed, unable to keep it in. Kravitz grabbed Taako’s trembling hands by the wrists, eased his tightly clenched fingers out of their position. He let go of Taako’s other hand to pry the shard, now a blur of red stains on white ceramic, out of his grip. He dropped it on the floor and the fingers of Taako’s free hand curled in the fabric of his sweatpants (the ones he had been wearing all week because he couldn’t be bothered to think about clothes) clutching the cloth desperately as Kravitz took a look at the wounds on his hand.

Taako couldn't look up, look at Kravitz, look at his husband, burdened by guilt and shame. All he could see was is the word _DAD_ glaring at him from the floor, printed on blood-stained white ceramic.

It had been a joke anyway. Kravitz would have been… He would have been the world’s best father.

“I’m sorry, Kravitz,” Taako gasped, his vision blurring with tears. “I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sor-”

“Shut up,” Kravitz said sternly, though his voice was still shaky with emotion. He dropped Taako’s hand in favor of grabbing his shoulders and pulling him into a tight embrace. Taako fell willingly into the comfort of his husband’s arms, though he felt undeserving.

“Shut up, you idiot,” Kravitz choked out, his face hidden in Taako’s unwashed hair. “I love you,” he said, sounding like he meant it with every fiber of his being. Taako brought his hands up to grab the back of Kravitz’s shirt, trying to get even closer, hoping that he might disappear entirely, that the hurt would somehow finally stop.

Taako was crying in earnest, exhausted and empty and Kravitz was crying too, his tears getting soaked up by the collar of Taako’s shirt.

“I love you Kravitz, I’m sorry, please don’t leave-” Taako babbled, desperately clawing at the fabric under his fingers, despite the pain in his hand. He was getting blood all over Kravitz’s shirt.

“Shut up,” Kravitz said again, pulling back to hold Taako’s tear-streaked face in his hands. He stared hard into Taako’s eyes and Taako brought his hands up to cover Kravitz’s hands with his own where they were brushing away the still flowing tears.

“I love you, Taako. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Kravitz said, his deep brown eyes warm and gaze steady despite the tears. He was telling the truth, Taako could tell. He really meant it and Taako nodded in response, struggling to answer through his heaving breaths.

“Okay,” he managed to get out, still holding onto Kravitz’s hands.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Okay,” Taako said again, this time in an exhausted whisper. He collapsed against Kravitz, who held him, petting his hair.

They never mention the mug again.

* * *

 But there it is now, the exact same one, sitting in a pile of torn-up gift wrap.

Taako stares at the item, frozen in place, the room deathly quiet. He can’t look at Angus, can’t bear to see the look on the young man’s face. It’s a gag gift, it was supposed to be funny and in a sick, twisted way, Taako feels like laughing at the cruel trick of fate. He looks at Kravitz, sees the haunted look in his husband’s eyes and his fight-or-flight response kicks in.

He slaps a hand over his mouth (to keep in a sob or to stop himself from throwing up, he isn’t sure) and pushes away from the table. The chair falls down onto the floor with a clatter and he flees the scene.

He hears noises, someone or something banging against the table and Kravitz yelling for Angus to wait. Taako takes a brief stumble, grabbing the wall for support.

He runs up the stairs, everything a blur. He slams open the door to the master bedroom and rushes to the walk-in closet to hide. He slides onto the floor, his back against the closed door and buries his shaking hands in his hair as he curls up into a ball. He presses his face to his knees, makes himself small. It’s hard to breathe. The lack of light and open space is a meager comfort.

Taako doesn’t know how long he sits there, an hour, only ten minutes? He trembles on the floor of his closet, arms wrapped around himself to keep from breaking into a million pieces (once again, he can’t fucking do this _again)_ , but eventually Kravitz comes to find him. He always does.

It’s the knock on the door behind him, his back still pressed against it that jostles him out of the prison his thoughts are locking him in.

“Taako? Can I come in?” Kravitz’s voice is gentle and quiet, and not just because of the wood separating them. Taako can’t bring himself to answer but he shuffles to the side, hides between Kravitz’s collection of long, black coats. Kravitz must have heard him moving because the door cracks open just a bit, just enough for him to slip through and it’s been a long time since Taako has been both so terrified and relieved to see his husband.

Taako’s head aches and he feels fuzzy like there’s static on his brain. His eyes feel irritated and his throat feels clogged up so all he can do is to let out a pitiful little whine. Kravitz hears and turns towards him and Taako reaches for him.

Kravitz pulls him out of the coats and into his arms and Taako just wants to fall asleep for a thousand years. He wants to sleep and he doesn’t want to wake up before all of this is over, before he can stop feeling like this and he can be a normal fucking person who doesn’t have freakouts over random, everyday shit.

“You alright?”

“No,” Taako says into Kravitz’s shirt. “You?” he asks because he fucking cares about Kravitz and knows that he’s hurting too.

“I’ve been better,” Kravitz says but there’s a bit of humor in his voice and Taako is glad that at least one of them is keeping it together.

They’re quiet for a while, sitting in the darkness in the middle of all their clothes, just holding each other.

Taako swallows hard, finds the strength to speak. “Can you- I need to call Ren I don’t think- I can’t go to work tomorrow I-”

“Taako,” Kravitz says, interrupting him, which he _never_ does and Taako tenses. “Angus is-” he pauses, “Angus is feeling really- We should explain it to him, Taako.”

“I can’t,” Taako whispers and hides his face in Kravitz’s collar. “I can’t.”

Kravitz holds him tighter.

* * *

Taako doesn’t know what Kravitz tells Angus, but apparently, it’s enough to not make him question. Taako stumbles his way through an apology, tells Angus how he’s sorry that he upset him, that he still has some issues he needs to work through. Angus hugs him and Taako hugs him back as hard as he can.

After that, they revert to normalcy and Taako, true to his nature, pretends that nothing ever happened.

Until one day, about a week since the _incident,_ Angus comes home and wordlessly sets a paper bag on the kitchen table while Taako and Kravitz are preparing dinner.

“Angus, what..?” Kravitz questions as he looks up from his vegetable chopping and Taako moves his attention away from the stove, turning the heat down.

“Open it,” Angus says, his voice emotionless. Taako shares an unsure look with Kravitz before they walk forward. Taako wrings his hands, he doesn’t dare to reach out for the bag so Kravitz takes the initiative.

Taako looks as Kravitz peeks into the bag and then smiles a bit. He reaches for Taako’s hand and pulls him closer to the table, inclining his head towards the bag. Taako raises a brow, trying for incredulous to hide his insecurity but he doesn’t think he does a very good job of it.

He frowns and looks at Angus, who nods, encouraging him.

Taako reaches into the paper bag and lifts out a mug. It’s a terrible, ugly thing with a lumpy finish and an unbecoming color. It’s obviously handmade. The words _WORLD'S BEST DAD_ are written by hand on the side of it. Taako starts shaking, a subtle tremble. He cradles the mug in both hands as Kravitz pulls up a chair and gently pushes him down to it by the shoulders. Kravitz pulls out a similar mug from the bag, right down to the text and the nasty mix of colored glaze.

“I took a pottery class,” Angus says with a grin and Kravitz smiles back at him, obviously touched. Taako can’t remove his eyes from the fucking thing. He’s not going to cry, absolutely not.

“You little shit,” he says with a watery grin as he holds the gift in his trembling hands. He looks up and Angus shoots him a beatific smile.

“Happy Father’s Day, dads.”


End file.
